Interlude
by bravevulnerability
Summary: "There will be a later, there will be plenty of time to do everything she's ever dreamed of with him, but now – right now she just wants him." A continuation of the 'Always' deleted scene.


Their first time is quiet.

She's pictured sex with Castle plenty of times, she can admit that, and not once did she picture it like this. She never could have anticipated the tenderness, the reverence, the shared awe that exists between them.

Her shirt is opened, fanning out at her sides, and he touches the exposed skin of her abdomen with gentle brushes of his fingertips, evoking goosebumps along her flesh. Even the moan she relinquishes to his mouth is quiet, breathless, and he dusts his lips down to her jaw, down her neck, whispering love against her galloping pulse.

Her spine arcs, pressing them together, aching for more, and Castle eases her upwards, slips the damp fabric of her blouse from her shoulders, allows her to do the same with the shirt she's spent the last few minutes struggling to unbutton through the haze of lust and love and all of theses other beautiful sensations that bombard her.

She leans forward to kiss the newly bared skin of his chest, trying to commit to memory the taste of him, the planes of muscle and strength beneath her lips. She knows he's not the most built of men, but he is solid beneath her, broad and warm, all encompassing. She's never wanted another body more. Never wanted another's heart so desperately.

Tentative fingers trail along the waistband of her jeans and the muscles low in her abdomen jump and tighten at his touch. She inhales a shaky breath and covers his hand with her own, brushing over his knuckles, grazing the thick long fingers hesitating over the button of her pants. She flicks the silver disc open herself, but guides his hand to the zipper.

He draws the metal down, locking dark eyes with her as the separating of teeth breaks the silence. He helps her tug the soaked denim from her legs, allows it to fall to the floor without a second glance as he urges her back into the soft plush of his comforter, letting her taste the glorious cavern of his mouth once more.

Her knees rise to bracket his hips, her bare legs scratching against the fabric of his jeans, and she reaches between them, undoes his belt, his zipper, pushes down. His pants land in a pile next to hers.

He worships at her collarbones, streaming kisses down the ridges of her clavicle to the hollow of her throat, dipping his tongue to her skin, sipping the remnants of rain and sweat pooling there, making her body quiver with anticipation. His mouth travels lower, returning to the marred flesh between her breasts, but rather than a simple kiss, his tongue laves over the puckered knot of skin, his teeth touch it with a gentle scrape, and she has to bury her fingers in his hair to hold on, to stay afloat through the wave of arousal and affection crashing over her.

The whispered breath of his name is all that is required for his lips to drift to the slope of her breast. His fingers curl at the straps of her bra hanging at her biceps, a simple tug all it takes to pull the material down and free her breasts from the cups of lace. His mouth engulfs her while one of his hands slides beneath her back, sweeps over her slick skin and finds the clasp of her bra, easing the lingerie from her body. She doesn't catch where it lands, doesn't care. Her eyes are fluttering, her mind flickering back and forth between the sensation of his tongue swirling over the taut peak of her nipple and the silk field of hair her fingers are gliding through, the way he shudders when her nails graze his scalp.

He abandons her breasts for the cage of her ribs, spanning his palms over the lattice of bones as his mouth migrates down the line of her sternum, over her stomach. His tongue traces over her navel and she jerks, her hips knocking against his arms, and then his teeth catch on the lace edge of her underwear.

"No," she begs when she notices him hovering there after he's drawn her underwear down her legs. "Later."

There will be a later, there will be plenty of time to do everything she's ever dreamed of with him, but now – right now she just wants him. He's returning to the space above her moments later, his boxers gone, and she palms the side of his face, feels the stubble of a long day abrade her skin.

All she has to do is nod and he's slipping inside her, a slow, torturous push that steals her breath. They're still for a moment, adjusting, and Castle combs the tangled locks of her hair from her face, touches his fingers to her temple, circling his thumb there.

"Okay?" he murmurs softly and she opens her eyes, horrified that she's allowed herself to close them for even a second, and brings her other hand up to his jaw, splaying her fingers there.

"Yeah," she assures him, stroking her thumb along the shell of his ear.

He's so serious as he stares down at her, as if he's still unsure, still doesn't trust her or a word she says, but that's okay. As long as he lets her stay, as long as he lets her keep him, gives her the chance to prove that she may be damaged, but she can be worthy of his love and love him just as much in return.

She gasps when he moves, clutches at his neck with both hands as his lips descend on hers. She opens for him, offers everything and takes all he gives.

In the back of her mind, underneath the swell of sensation, she thinks of dancing, it feels like dancing with him. They've always been good at that – dancing around one another, around conversations, around the truth. This is no different, but instead of dancing away from the other, they move together, bodies swaying, coming together and breaking apart, but only for a moment. The cove of his body never goes far from her, always brushing, pressing, covering - some part always touching her, caressing her.

It makes her feel safe, makes her forget everything else, because this, this is all she's ever really wanted. Just him.

The flash of lightening illuminates the dimness of his bedroom as she circles her hips into his, laces her legs around his waist and tugs him closer, deeper. The vivid heat of his tongue makes her moan, gasp for air, and he breaks his lips away from hers, sharing the breath between them. His eyes are like the storm clouds that hang over the city, coming alight with every stroke, every thrust and quiet whimper that escapes from her throat.

"I love you." The confession falls to her cheek, spreading downwards in a rush of warmth that flows from her chest to her limbs, only adding to the bubbling heat consuming every part of her.

She's glad he's moved to her neck, suckling on the taut skin of her throat and adding to the collage of bruises painting her skin, when she feels moisture drip from the corner of her eye, trickling into her hair.

He still loves her.

Her arms cling tighter to him, encircling his torso, palms spreading over the wings of his shoulder blades, nails digging into his skin. He slams into her for that and she arches at the sparks of pleasure intensifying, the fire burning brighter and brighter deep in her stomach.

Her ribs are sore from the beating she took earlier, but her heart has no mercy as it pummels against her chest, straining to meet his.

"Let go," he husks at her ear, his hand slipping beneath her once more, pressing against her tailbone to seal her closer, holding her flush against him.

Their synchronized rhythm slowly falls apart with them, breaking as the sizzling friction becomes too much, as every part of her turns to flames. She clenches around him, bursting apart and feeling him shudder, spasm inside her, holding her tightly as they dance over the edge together.

They're a tangle of sated limbs moments later, arms and legs twined and twisted around one another, and she turns her face into his neck, retracts one of the arms curled at his back to sift her fingers through his hair, listening to him hum against her shoulder. The weight of him atop her is right, welcome, and she sighs in quiet regret when he starts to shift, rolling them to their sides, but not letting her go.

She stays close, her sweat stained skin still plastered to his, and all she has to do is tilt her chin upwards to find his mouth, dust her lips over his. He's smiling, tender and blissed and a little disbelieving. She doesn't like the last part, doesn't like how long she made him wait, but she'll fix it, she'll spend her entire life – a thrill of excitement zips through her at the thought – fixing it.

"Kate," she hears the whisper of her name over the pattering white noise of rain against the windows and inches closer, nudges her nose against his and feels the gentle sigh of contentment he releases. "God, Kate."

She cradles his face as she kisses him, indulging in the languid waltz of tongues, and coaxes him to his back as she slides over him, rests her forehead to his and breathes, gives them both just a second to breathe.

The words are on her tongue, pushing against the seam of her lips, almost free and she allows them their escape, and she doesn't know if he hears, but she breathes them into the space between them, spills them into his mouth.

"I love you."

The surprised breath he releases ghosts along her lips, his eyes wide and so very blue as they gaze up at her, and then he's pulling her down, kissing her with renewed fervor.

"Love you, love you, love you," she chants until his mouth covers hers, worships hers, and her words turn to moans.

Their second time is not so quiet.


End file.
